TRAVEL
The Rio Tinto Mines in Huelva
Resident of Andalucia, Francis Cherry, on why these abandoned mines are well worth a visit
F
ancy a day out in Andalucia? Try a visit to the Rio Tinto Mines – they are no longer in production, but as a tourist attraction, they are first rate. For those of you who have not visited, the open-cast mine is a gigantic hole in the Andalucian countryside covering an area about 10k by 10k, and when it was going full stretch in the 19th and 20th Century, it was the biggest open cast mine in Europe, if not the world. Until you visit you cannot believe the extra-ordinary appearance of this gigantic surreal hole that has been carved out of the landscape, as if an enormous meteorite had landed in the middle of the countryside. The colours are equally surreal; scraping away the earth has revealed layer after layer of mineral bearing rock in hues of green, brown, pink and grey. As you gaze down from the side of the crater at the miniscule huts, offices, trucks etc. 1000 feet below, it seems like a Dinky toy world down there. The mines are about an hour’s drive from Huelva, just South of Aracenas, and there is a great little hostal at nearby Nerva, where for peanuts you can stay and be entertained by Sr Vasquez Diaz. He’ll tell you about all the famous people who have stayed there – mostly film stars on location, but he is particularly proud of a team from NASA who stayed for three months preparing a trip to Mars (I have not heard that they actually got there, but it appears that the area is just like the surface of mars - geologically that is). In ancient times these were supposedly the fabulous mines of King Solomon that brought Phoenecian traders to Andalucia. The Romans were certainly working here, (we have the remains of some of their workings complete with the water-
wheels they used to get the water out of their deep workings). After the Romans left the mines vanished and remained off the radar until Carlos III tried, without much success, to get some of the mineral wealth down to the cannon foundries in Seville. But the logistics of transporting the ore to Seville (five days by burro) proved unprofitable, and in 1871 the Spanish Government finally sold the mines to a British syndicate, who set about making the mines work, constructing a railway to take the spoil to Huelva. This outlet was the key to making the Rio Tinto mines one of the most important sources of copper and sulphur in the world. The geology of the mines went rather over my head, but my wife, who has a scientific background, was riveted. What I really wanted to see and engage with was the way our grandparents lived in this outpost of the empire in a remote part of Andalucia. It has been on my list for ages. I never cease to be intrigued by the way our ancestors survived in the various outposts of the empire where they fetched up, in my case mostly in India. How on earth did they cope with the heat? Perhaps they were made of hardier stuff than us today – Uncle Bertie (killed on his 21st birthday pig-sticking) would have thought me a right wimp (if the word existed in 1905) to flee Andalucia in July. Despite the fridge, the air conditioning, the electric fans and all the other aids to cool living, I can’t wait to flee to London for the summer. In the best British tradition the British company built Bella Vista, a gated community for the staff on a hill overlooking the mine. It looks a bit like Hampstead Garden Suburb with its box hedges, flow-
er beds, club house and tennis courts, and roses round the front doors (the palm trees look a bit out of place). The first thing you’ll notice is the gatehouse, to keep out the undesirables – I find it hard to believe, but was assured that anyone who shacked up with a Spaniard was excluded from the club. Bella Vista had (and still has) all the customary add-ons that made the Brits feel at home: a golf-course, tennis courts, a swimming pool and the most glorious clubhouse. Alfredo Moreno Bolano, the charming and hospitable club secretary, showed us around: it was Simla reprised – the snooker table, the panelled library, copies of the Illustrated London News from before the First World War (no kidding, cross my heart), and the stern reminder that NO ladies were allowed in the bar. One of the Club’s star exhibits is a rather worn Union Jack that Sr Bolanos told me was displayed over the clubhouse as Franco’s troops advanced, to remind El Caudillo that it was not our quarrel, and that we were only here to make a few bob, and give some local employment. A modern hospital has been built near the Bella Vista, and I understand that, although a handful of English live there, the majority of the houses are now occupied by medical staff. One house has been refurbished as it would have been at the turn of the century, and is open as a tourist attraction. The original company hospital has been turned into a stunning museum that takes us through the history of mining in the area. It includes a remarkable facsimile of a Roman mine that had me running round in circles trying to get out because of my claustrophobia (how embarrassing was that?!) It also casts an unflinching eye on the way the miners were exploited by the British, and documents the various mining strikes and civil unrest that took place between the wars. The tour includes a half hour excursion on the original train that took the spoil down to Huelva for shipping. The train goes down the side of the Rio Tinto so you can wonder at the deep carmine colour that the water has become through percolating through the rocks. The water tastes disgusting (rather like neat vinegar) but is used by locals to cure eczema, dermatitis etc. Sheep are reputed to swim in the water to get rid of ticks. As the Michelin guide used to say: “Vaut la visite!” Autumn 2014 • La Revista 37